


First Army, First to Maneuver

by FflewddurFflambuoyant



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FflewddurFflambuoyant/pseuds/FflewddurFflambuoyant
Summary: Van Eck had thought that only a select few in Shuhan and Fjerda knew about the jurda parem; he was mistaken. For, over in Ravka, the Second Army has procured a top secret sample. What's more, the Second Army has entangled the First Army in whatever it is they're planning. But the thing about a tangle is, there's always a means to cut your way out of it.
Kudos: 2





	1. The Effect of the Orders, pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've only read Six of Crows, so I am not intimately familiar with the larger Grishaverse, sadly. However, if you can't help but laugh your ass off, or blow steam, at anything I might get wrong that's established in other books, I shall endeavor to either laugh alongside you or splash water on your tea-kettle ears. Now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

_Comrade Staff Sergeant Grollova,_

_Greetings and pleasantries are in order, but I am afraid that this is a pressing matter that is at hand. You and your company have been tasked with transporting some goods: items which are destined for Os Alta. However, we in the Second Army are well aware that there is a great deal of distance between your current posting and the capital._

_As such, please accept the continued accompaniment of the courier of this letter, Heartrender Miss Anir Kairena. If she has completed her duty thus far – that of providing you with this letter, as well as the primary item of concern in your escort – then she should prove to be a further asset, along your march._

_We are also aware of the disgruntlement that is to be expected from your men, upon learning that they are to march out so abruptly and so strictly. Now, naturally, we don’t expect any insubordination or doubt from you, Staff Sergeant, nor any other officer of the Ravkan First Army. However, let us not kid ourselves: the rabble can always be counted on to be malcontented._

_In order to assuage this unrest before it even arises, we in the Second Army have consulted and agreed to disclose certain details of this assignment and the import thereof. Make no mistake, though: were you to disclose any of this information, you were be summarily stripped of your command and privileges, and your actions and words publicly denounced. That said, feel free to use these details to inform any excuse you might feed to your men, in order to keep the escort running smoothly._

_First and foremost, this matter concerns the future of the Grisha. The item which Miss Kairena had brought to you is a sample of a newly-developed drug; based on the common southeastern stimulant known as ‘jurda’, this controlled substance is a heightened version of the original, with heightened effects. ‘Jurda parem’, for that is the name of the drug, proves immediately fatal to all non-Grisha who consume it (so don’t you or any of your men get any ideas), and it proves non-fatal but highly addictive to all Grisha who consume it. It was developed in Shuhan, and its effects on Grisha powers is phenomenal._

_Naturally, the enhanced performance of Grisha is of great fascination to the Ravkan government, and it is in both armies’ interests to see that this sample – procured via subterfuge and sacrifice – is carried successfully to Os Alta, where researchers can examine it more thoroughly. However, under no circumstances must it be made known to the public at large that such a drug exists; we’ve had enough trouble concealing knowledge of its existence on foreign soil (intelligence indicates that the Kerch government isn’t even aware of the drug to any extent)._

_With all this in mind, Comrade Staff Sergeant, your mission is deceptively simple: you will depart from your current outpost on some pretense, you will escort Miss Kairena and her sample of the jurda parem to the capital, you will leave both in the further care of the Os Alta researchers, and you will ensure that not so much as a whisper of this drug’s existence makes it way past your company._

_Best of Ravkan luck to you, comrade,_

_Zoya Nazyalensky_

_Post Script – Be it known, that your commanding officers in Os Kervo understand your present predicament and duties. Ergo, DO NOT waste time to inform them, and waste none of your men in remaining behind in an attempt to hold your current post. You are expected to devote the entirety of your troop roster to this mission, and you will not be held to answer for any mishap that might befall your outpost in the interim._

– – – – – – –

‘Ravaged’ would _not_ describe the outpost; not accurately, at least. No, the encampment – to say nothing of the neighboring village – was near enough to Os Kervo’s supply lines to be mildly comfortable, and far enough from Fjerda-Ravka border to be in any pressing danger.

Granted, this meant that they were also near enough to the port city to be overshadowed, and far enough from the northern war zone to be hailed as heroic or important. Lance Corporal Oyvan Sinov was well aware of this quaint, frustrating duality.

Which is why it confused him so, to hear that Staff Sergeant Grollova was ordering more resources be collected from the village, stat. _We’re not readying to leave, are we?_ he wondered, as he walked away from his patrol shift, shouldered his rifle, and sauntered past the various supply tents.

_Well, anyway,_ the Lance Corporal thought, _whatever the commander has in mind, we can’t be setting out soon. Whatever’s the matter, I’ll have time, time to see Jula again._ Yes, that’s what the Lance Corporal needed to think about: not some ill-defined sense of either worry or wonder, but a red-blooded young woman.

A red-blooded young woman who looked just as lovely from the front, in her apron that clung to her supple frame, as she did from the back, in her casual posture that always exposed the loveliest curves. Yes, Sinov was ever intoxicated, whenever he saw her from behind. And right now was no exception.

It took him a second or two to realize that he truly was looking at the back of Jula. Somehow, it seemed nonsensical that she should be here, hugging one of the tents and peering out into the relative darkness of the perimeter. Apparently, she knew not that she was being watched from behind. She soon found out about the former.

“Jula?” the Lance Corporal called out quietly. In response, Jula whirled around, revealing a sudden rock in her hand, which she aimed like a catapult.

But, deadened by the sight of this soldier in particular, Jula relaxed a little, though she kept the rock in-hand. “Oyvan?”

“What are you do-” Sinov began, before being pantomimed into silence.

“Quiet!” the young woman whispered insistently. Rushing over to him, she asked, “Are you alone?” Going off of a nod, she said, “Good, come with me; I’ll explain.” Taking him by the hand, she set of down the line of tents, continually darting her eyes this way and that.

Settling into a pace, Sinov wracked his brain for something dashing to say. “Uh . . . Decided you couldn’t wait ‘til I was on leave, could you?”

“Hush!” she whisper-yelled in response. Then, checking one last turn, she paused long enough to look into Sinov’s eyes. “Oyvan, you’d do anything for me, right?”

“Naturally, bu-”

“And you know my sister, Pyotrina has always been sickly, right?”

Confusion mounting, the Lance Corporal said carefully, “I vaguely remember something like that.”

“Well,” said Jula, “she’s taken a turn, a nasty one, and the doctor says she may not make it through the week, if she doesn’t get a particular draught.”

“But, what does this have to do with –”

“Thanks to the latest orders from your commander,” Jula explained, with a huff, “the apothecary’s been wiped out; there’s nothing left that can do anything for little sister. So,” she said, indicating the tents around her, “I figured the First Army wouldn’t miss just one tiny draught of medicine.”

“But, how do you know which one’s the medicinal tent?”

Nodding over the Lance Corporal’s shoulder, Jula said, “It’s that one, right?”

Sinov was flabbergasted. “How’d you . . . Ohhh,” he said. As he peered into her devilish eyes, a sudden realization overpowered him, as did her sidelong embrace. “You’ve snuck in here before, haven’t you?” Sinov asked, with a smile tracing his lips.

“Only once, before mother died, when I thought I could save her,” said Jula, matter-of-factly. Wrapping her second arm around the Lance Corporal, she squoze. “Oh, Oyvan, you wouldn’t report me, would you? After all, it’s not even for me, it’s for my baby sister. Surely, you can sympathize, can’t you, Oyvan?”

“Alright, alright,” said the Lance Corporal. “Just so long as we make this quick.”

“Good.” Disentangling, she took one last look around, and then ducked into the tent, followed closely by Oyvan.

Sacks and minor crates decorated the inside, dotting the grass that made up the floor. As for anything organized, there was really only a table at the back, upon which sat a number of racks and portable cases.

Due to this spot looking easier to sift through than anywhere else, Jula sat herself down at the table (hogging the only chair to herself), leaving Oyvan to look passively over her shoulder. That is, when he wasn’t looking back over his own.

“I hope you don’t intend to take long,” said he.

“I’ll be quick,” Jula said, already elbow-deep in her own rummaging. “What’s this?” she said, pulling a packet out from under a cloth. Opening it up, Jula withdrew a single tablet, among many. A yellow tablet.

“Looks like jurda,” Oyvan put in.

Dropping the packet and pill dispassionately, Jula continued to pour over the table, hell-bent on her quarry. Meanwhile, Oyvan continued to stand impatiently. In fact, he was almost ready to object to the whole situation, to insist that Jula hurry it up, when he saw her hands stop on one of the racks.

“This,” she said, not daring to believe her own luck, “this is it.” Pulling a vial out of the rank and file, Jula examined the substance one last time for good measure. “Yes,” she went on, more confident in her excitement, “this is it! Oh, Oyvan!” So saying, she sprung from the chair, spun around, and swallowed the Lance Corporal up with her arms. “This is exactly what I need!” she cried girlishly into his neck, as she shook him. Naturally, the young man was rather high.

But doomed to not last, this high was. For, just then, both he and Jula heard the unmistakable sound of voices. Cutting their embrace short, they looked pitifully toward the closed mouth of the tent. Now that their ears were free of each other’s press, they could hear quite plainly: the voices were approaching the tent they were currently in.


	2. The Effect of the Orders, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who found the first chapter enjoyable enough to read the second . . . thank you, sincerely. I might ask, now that you've read the whole thing: do you think this could blossom into something bigger and better? Let me know. Again, thank you.

Hurriedly, Jula ducked behind a pile of sacks, dragging Oyvan down with her. _Oh, shit. Shit!_ She thought. _Did they hear us? Did they hear us and come to investigate? Did they notice that Oyvan was missing and come to find him? Are they going to nab me before I can get this medicine to Pyotrina?_ As it turned out . . . no, they weren’t. Because no, they didn’t.

Into the enclosure came the Staff Sergeant, a man whose name Jula didn’t know, and a woman, whose anything Jula didn’t know. Before letting the tent flap closed behind him, the Staff Sergeant stuck his head back out.

“Thank you, Corporal, you’re dismissed. Miss Kairena and I are to deliberate on upcoming matters in private.” After that, these two newcomers were ‘alone’ in the tent.

Oyvan and Jula shared a look, as they stifled their panting. Even the Lance Corporal was smart enough to not vocalize any of his thoughts or questions. Jula almost wished that boy was, though; she would have liked nothing better than to speak at ease, or at least hear something else speak thusly. As was, stifled and stiff, they huddled together behind the sacks – peeking out as barely as possible – hearing the casual tones of two people who didn’t sound like they’d be leaving any time soon.

“Oh, Anir, how I’ve missed you!” the Staff Sergeant moaned (or was it more of a sigh?). The Staff Sergeant sat down at the table, occupying the lone chair.

Jula caught a glimpse of this woman, Anir, threading her fingers through the commanding officer’s hair. “And I you.”

“Despite everything that’s unfolded, I was ecstatic inside, when I saw you approach the outpost.”

“Yes, even knowing what the letter said, what I’d have to tell you, I couldn’t help but be giddy when Zoya ordered me to come. It’s been too long!” Another glimpse told Jula that this Anir was now wrapping her arms around the petty officer’s neck, nuzzling and nipping at him playfully.

“Unfortunately,” said the Staff Sergeant, “I imagine there really _is_ much we must discuss. They say ‘business before pleasure’: I wouldn’t dare wait _that_ long, as this business will no doubt go on and on, but I fear that we must get started, at least, first. No?”

Sighing, Anir said simply, “Yes.”

“How would you say Zoya was, when she prescribed this mission?”

“Oh, she’s plotting something,” Anir insisted.

“Yes, I worried as much. ‘DO NOT waste time to inform them.’ Pffah! They’re my commanding officers! Not only do I owe them a message out of basic protocol, but I daren’t believe that there aren’t going to be any repercussions for my not telling them.”

“Zoya probably thinks that, because you’re merely a petty officer, you’re more likely to be foolish enough to fall for it.”

“Yeah, well, petty or not, I’m an officer. My superiors felt that I could handle this outpost on my own, and not without good reason. No, the genuine fool here is Zoya. But what could she gain by my dishonorable discharge?”

“Execution, more like.” Anir sat down on the grass floor of the tent, holding the Staff Sergeant’s hands as she swung down, like a mast being lowered. “She considers you disposable, but she considers the mission vital. The language she used, when debriefing me, suggested that I was to manipulate you, and, if necessary, split from the company with the parem in tow.”

“Either way, what does she stand to gain?” In the silent, extrospective seconds that followed, Jula had time to think as well: time to think about how cold her blood had since turned, about how sweaty her palms now were (and what a risk that posed to her grip on the vial), and about how wracked with nerve she would be on her way back home.

After a time, Anir proposed, “She also wants you to leave none of your men behind to guard the village, when you depart. Perhaps she’s hoping to stage some kind of attack on the undefended territory, push something under the guise of strengthening Ravka’s deficient borderlands.”

“That sounds logical, though I would’ve figured that a woman like Zoya would have the sway to forego such tactics.”

“Or, perhaps, she simply wants to slander the First Army without opening her mouth, by demonstrating some perceived incompetence. Our Armies may not be unfriendly, per se, but a little one-upmanship never hurt.”

“That sounds even more logical, though I’d like to know if there’s anything amiss in the Second Army, anything Zoya would like to draw attention away from.”

“Other than a single desertion, I can’t think of a thing.”

“Desertion?”

“Yes, a while back, going on a year now, a new girl – I think her name was Nina? – she left under odd and not entirely clear circumstances, on a mission in the Wandering Isle.”

“Other than that, nothing?”

“Nothing. Since then, there’s been nothing but devotion and discipline amongst the Grisha.”

Tut-tutting slightly, the Staff Sergeant said, “This won’t do; I need more socio-data; I need men in Os Kervo.”

“I have a thought –”

“Then, by all means, disclose it, my dear.”

“– You can’t leave any men behind, and you can’t spare any men to go tell your superior what the hell you’re doing, correct? Well . . .” here, her voice seemed to get possibly quieter, summoning another half-inch or so of Jula out from behind the hiding place she and Oyvan shared. “What if,” whispered Anir, “some of your men were to be ‘dismissed’ from your command, or maybe ‘transferred’ to the command of someone you trust in Os Kervo?”

“No,” the petty officer said, shaking his head, “it’d fall apart too fast in too many ways. If I redirect them to Os Kervo for discipline, then there’s no way they’ll be able to serve their purpose or pass on the latest developments. Arguably less so, if they’re marked as deserters or dismissed.”

“Well, who says anyone but Zoya needs to know of their real status?”

“. . . Go on.”

“You see, you’ll tell Zoya, and only Zoya, that you’ve dismissed a few men, or else had some men go AWOL, for the sake of satisfying her demands on paper. But then, you keep your men thoroughly, loyally under your command, and order them to do what must needs be done.”

“I see: I suppose I’ll have to account for the men’s dual-status, if and when Zoya gets her mitts on the situation down the road, but in the short run it’s a simple case of saying one thing and doing another.”

“Precisely!” Anir said, beaming. “And, it needn’t be many men.”

“Three, for instance?” the petty officer threw out.

“I think three would be a splendid number. Now,” she said, shifting up onto her knees and hooking the man by the waist, “I dare say we’ve more than gotten our business started.”

“Oh, but of course, Miss Kairena, but of course. Time for pleasure.”

The Staff Sergeant let himself be pulled onto the grass floor, where he and his woman intertwined tenderly. Needless to say, the two of them appeared thoroughly distracted.

Turning to face Oyvan, Jula could see that Oyvan was just as relieved as she was. It wasn’t until too late, though, that she realized this relief ought to have been curbed.

Despite clearly attempting a whisper, Oyvan was just a touch too loud when he leaned in and said to Jula, “This is our chance. Let’s go.”

“Did you hear that?” said the Staff Sergeant. Everybody, seen and unseen, went still inside the tent.

_Please chalk it up to a field mouse and get back to it_ , Jula thought desperately. _I can smack Oyvan upside the head later, if we can just slip away now._ A moment later, she was doubling over with pain, to the point that her whimper was impossible to cover up, and neither was Oyvan’s.

Soon, Anir and the Staff Sergeant were peering over the pile of sacks, examining the crumpled teenagers. “Spies?” said Anir.

“Pursue your blood-clotting a little more, and ask them outright.”

The pain intensified momentarily. “We’re not spies!” Jula damn near screamed. “We just came here for medicine, honest! I swear, we just wanted to get some medicine!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks; like the tears, the pain level was falling.

“You seem fairly hale, girl,” said Anir, “and your boyfriend appears fit. Though, not fit to be a soldier of the First Army, if he’s a good-for-nothing spy.”

“What she says is true!” Oyvan gasped. “I swear on my honor as a soldier, commander: her sister is deathly ill, and she needed to see if there was anything in our stores that could help, since the apothecary had nothing. I just wanted to help her.”

That panting – which the two of them had striven to hide when first intruded upon – was now coming unbidden, unconcealed, and undignified, as the last of the pain abated. Looking up, Jula saw that Anir and the Staff Sergeant were still observing them, albeit with softer expressions.

“Medicine for your sister? Is that all?” said the officer. “Where specifically did you retrieve this medicine?” Obediently, Jula pointed towards the rack at the far back of the table.

Anir kept her attention firmly on the two youngsters, kept her hands raised in preparation. “Throw your gun away,” she said to Oyvan, who complied. Meanwhile, the Staff Sergeant walked over to the table, examining the deficit in the rank and file of the draughts and powders. Hesitantly, Jula speculated silently on the commanding officer’s visage.

_He’s not a heartless man; maybe he’ll let us go, so long as we swear to secrecy. Maybe he’ll allow Oyvan to make this right by being one of the men to go to Os Kervo. Maybe . . ._ That visage changed slightly, as it fell over the scattered cloth nearby, over the open packet that it used to conceal, over the yellow dust and solitary tablet that decorated the table.

Turning to face Jula, the Staff Sergeant said, “Your sister, she’s truly sick? Desperately so?” Too petrified to speak a word, Jula simply nodded passionately. “In that case, my sincerest condolences.” Looking to Oyvan, he added, “And, to you, Lance Corporal Sinov, I’ll say this: a soldier serves his country, before he serves his lady friend.” And then, looking to Anir, he said, “Make it relatively quick and painless, Miss Kairena. Such a shame that our ‘deserters’ turned out to actually be ‘traitors’.”

Jula lived on just long enough to learn that her scream was cut short.

– – – – – – –

_Most Honorary Comrade Nazyalensky,_

_Your message received, and your mission clear, I set out to do what I can. Yes, it is less than a formality that I respond, considering the nature of this assignment. Regardless, given the high exaltation of the Grisha commander in question, I felt it appropriate to send my reply._

_As for my reply, there is little to say: I have dreamt a method for justifying the march out, and I have, by the time of this letter’s reception, long since enacted it. It turns out, there were some treachers among my troops, four of them, with indeterminate help from this foul, beloved village. One of them was caught and disposed of (alongside his local accomplice) in the midst of some sabotage and counter-reconnaissance, but the other three have escaped. Because of this, I feel that I must deploy my men in order to apprehend the blackguard and crush his cell, or, at the very least, to inform those in Os Alta that the risk of compromise is afoot._

_I trust this will prove a sufficient reasoning, should your honor find need to explain my actions as officer. The First and Second Armies may not directly report to one another, nor even necessarily occupy one and the same zones of influence, but to be safely vouched for by the other carries some weight yet for the one._

_Well, either way, I and my men must take our leave of this place, post-haste. Hopefully, this deputized peasant – a meal fellow by the name of Tevnensky – will arrive at your base of operations with even more expediency. Whenever he makes it to you (in case he forgets to recite my exact words in addition to this letter), I am deeply honored to be chosen for this mission, and I am unduly flattered that the legendary Grisha Zoya Nazyalensky would consider me for such an assignment in the first place._

_Your humble and obedient,_

_Staff Sergeant J. Grollova_


End file.
